


Quietly

by SolarEclipse103



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Badboyhalo-centric, Tags to be added, idk how to tag, post-egg, post-eggpire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29876553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarEclipse103/pseuds/SolarEclipse103
Summary: The breath was caught in his throat. He couldn't seem to shut his eyes. He was frozen in place, unable to look away from the carnage he had caused. The destruction that, however you looked at it, lead straight to him. It was his doing. His fault. He should've been stronger, should've fought harder, should've-
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Darryl Noveschosch, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Sam | Awesamdude, Darryl Noveschosch/Sam | Awesamdude, Mostly platonic i believe
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	1. Carnage, then into custody

The breath was caught in his throat. He couldn't seem to shut his eyes. He was frozen in place, unable to look away from the carnage he had caused. The destruction that, however you looked at it, lead straight to him. It was his doing. His fault. He should've been stronger, should've fought harder, should've-

The muscles in his legs had been worked too hard. He was incredibly unsteady. As a chilled breeze ran through the holes in his clothes, over the open wounds that littered his tired body, he fell to his knees. The shredded grass below him didn't stop the dirt and small rocks from digging into the worn skin, though he couldn't notice even if he wanted to. 

He raised two clawed hands to his mouth. The once sharp nails now broken; dirt and blood sandwiched between keratin and darkened flesh. Due to his slightly agape mouth, he could taste the familiar metallic flavor of blood. He quickly glanced down. That is when the pain finally shook through his body. His knuckles were split and raw. The crimson that rushed down his hands made his stomach seize. He hunched over, discarding nothing but stomach bile. What was the last thing he ate?

His vision blurred as he felt his chest cave, warm liquid starting to flood down his cheeks. Red light appeared as his eggpire themed regalia dissolved away, leaving him in his iconic attire; despite it being ripped and dirtied. Matted and greasy hair fell in front of his face, the intrusive ashy locks sticking to the blood, sweat, and tears that painted his face. 

It was long before he noticed the two figures standing behind him; one of them needing to alert him verbally. He flinched away, staring at them. His heart ached to see their expressions. They displayed nothing but distrust. 

"Guys.." He began but was hastily cut off. 

"Badboyhalo," the creeper hybrid started, toneless firm than was probably intended. "With agreement from The Badlands, The Greater Dream SMP, and the Arctic Syndicate, you are to be taken into the custody of the prison. Reasoning being.." 

Sam seemed to struggle with this greatly. He had trailed off, seeing the expression that displayed itself clearly on Bad's face. A smile.

"Reason being the obvious. Come on, Bad." Puffy forced out, moving to hoist up the nether demon. 

"No, no, I got it," he assured, keeping the same smile on his face. The sheep hybrid opened her mouth to retort but stopped as Bad stood up on his own. He stepped up to Sam, limply holding out his arms in surrender. Hesitantly, the taller of the group clasped Netherite shackles around the bloody wrists.

"Bad, I-" He started morosely.

"I choose to go with you willingly." Bad interrupted, visibly trying his hardest to keep his voice level. The weight of the netherite joined by the needle-like pain that surged through his muscles fought against his desire to appear both strong and theatrical. Inevitably, his battered arms fell in front of him, causing him to wobble slightly.

Both Puffy and Sam wore looks that could be explained as nothing less than skeptical. Months of deceit and manipulation had taught them to always second-guess any words that fell from the demon’s mouth, especially if he wore a smile whilst speaking them. But they couldn’t deny that this… didn’t seem anything like the tricks he’d play. They could see the pain that bore itself deep into Bad’s once incredibly loving and accepting character. The smile, while wide, was not malicious in the slightest. It displayed a heartbreaking mixture of contentment and regret. 

With heavy hearts, the pair nodded; exchanging a hasty glance as puffy ran off to handle the others. Bad beamed up at Sam, but it was clear he didn’t have much energy, or willingness, to speak up. 

Sam let out a long sigh as he stared at the broken man in front of him. “Alright, let’s get going then..,” he muttered, mostly to himself, as he held out his trident behind Bad and started in the direction of the prison. 

Bad, during the entirety of the walk, made to point to protest or run off. He had completely submitted. It threw Sam off by quite a bit. He nearly questioned his reasoning for locking him up in the first place; though that thought was quickly disregarded. 

Once inside the prison, the nether demon still quietly surrendered. There was no question when Sam went over the strict rules. No defiance when Sam went through the painstakingly long process of locking up all of his belongings. No contrariness when Sam had him shower and change into the prison’s detainee-friendly attire. Just small nods and polite smiles.

The only other time he spoke that day was when the entire process was completed. Once he was actually locked up in the small, low-security cell. He sat on his bed and looked to Sam.

“Permission to speak?” he inquired faintly.

“... Granted.”

“Could I get some drinking water?”

Sam was staring; once again stunned by complete disbelief. Water. Just water. He pondered the request for an ample amount of time before nodding. 

“Uh… yeah, I’ll go grab you some,” The warden agreed nervously, taking a step back before turning and scampering off. 

This allowed the ashy demon a moment of rest. He could finally let his kind smile drop. His heavy head tilted down enough for him to stare at his hands. At the raw flesh that coated his knuckles. At the sturdy netherite shackles that revolved around his pitifully sore wrists. He could hear the ghost of his recently absent controller whispering unkind gossip into ears that were promptly folded back in shame. 

These hands used to do so much good. These were the hands he relied on whilst traversing the Nether. They were the hands that comforted the abandoned imp child he found playing with miniature magma slimes. They were the hands that gardened, baked, washed, built, defended-

“How are they?” He was brought back to reality by the troubled inquiry. He turned his head upwards to meet the hybrid’s gaze. Gloved hands carried a few more items than requested; items consisting of the sought-after water in the form of a bottle, along with another bottle containing a glowing red liquid, a rag, and a handful of uncooked potatoes. Bad blinked artlessly, before remembering he was asked a question.

“I’m sorry?” He queried, brow pushed upward slightly in confusion. The creeper hybrid knelt.

“Your hands,” he motioned to the appendages in question prior to repeating. “How are they?”

The worried gesture brought the smile back onto the demon’s face. 

“They’re alright. A bit sore, but with time they will heal.” He assured calmly. He earned a simple nod before his hands were taken into Sam’s. Gloved hands dipped the rag into the bottle of glowing elixir. Then the rag was gently but firmly pressed into the sensitive skin; receiving a sharp intake of air from the recipient of this action. Quickly, well-enough posture became slightly slouched as the stinging pain of the wounds started to mend. The elixir had been a healing potion.

After a handful of quiet moments, the warden stood; bringing with him the potion and the rag and leaving the water and uncooked spuds. 

“You should get some rest. We will talk tomorrow,” He muttered as he trotted glumly to the door to the cell. The demon nodded slowly, responding with a short ‘tomorrow’ as he sipped on the water from the bottle. Sam nodded back and promptly left the cell. Moments later the sounds of activated pistons reached Bad’s ears. The floor to the hallway had been dropped and the vault doors had been shut. 

He pressed the cork into the lip of the bottle and set it on the floor, scooting backward to lay down on the bed. Even if the mattress was cheap and uncomfortable, it was enough to make his entire body relax from pure exhaustion. The heaviness of his eyelids got the better of him as he quietly drifted off into a heavily desired rest. 

It was nice to finally get some sleep. 


	2. Closed-mouth Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stared for a minute; not lost in thought, but not particularly present in any sort of way.

Bad gasped violently, arriving back into consciousness a bit crueler than what would’ve been desired. He stared up at the ceiling, briefly forgetting where he was. He sat up with a start; earning a bothersome creak from the bed frame. His eyes flickered around the room, scanning the area for any immediate danger, before dropping his head in his hands as he began focusing on his breathing; finally remembering where the hell he was. He coughed dryly in reaction to his dry mouth that tasted of dust and drool, uttering a repulsed groan under his breath.

He leaned over to pick up the bottle of water he had left on the floor, only now noticing how astonishingly tender all of his muscles were. A pained breath escaped through his nose as he grabbed the bottle and sat back up, ever so slightly out of breath. He pulled the cork from the rounded lip of the bottle and downed a much-desired swig of water. After swallowing, he released a long, tired sigh.

He looked down at the heavy shackles displayed around his wrists. He stared for a minute; not lost in thought, but not particularly present in any sort of way. It was an odd feeling, having full control of what went on in his mind. There were no otherworldly chants that rang through his ears. Nothing that told him what to do, how to act, what to say. No one was holding the person he held dearest above his head.

He missed Skeppy. Actually, he missed everyone. Even Ant and Punz, who he saw on the daily. But he really missed Skeppy. He had been promised Skeppy’s safety and happiness in return for complete loyalty to a being who desired nothing more than complete power. 

If you know the nether demon personally, you’ll know his moral compass isn’t impeccable. He is no saint. He wants power just as much as the next person. But despite him being morally grey, he was incredibly kind and caring. He gave everyone a chance at a friendship and was incredibly respectful with people he didn’t get along with. Or, he supposed he  _ was _ that kind of demon. Once.

His mind continued to wander like this, bouncing from topic to topic. Having close-mouthed conversations with himself. Reflecting on the months he wasn’t in complete control. 

Perhaps his thoughts were so active because he desired to fill the silence that blanketed the prison hallway. The only noise that could be detected was the faintest whisper of pops from the magma that bubbled almost 100 feet below him. It wasn’t like how it was in the maximum-security cell when he had visited Dream oh so long ago. The sound of the lava reverberated around the cell. The ticking of the clock that was placed on the wall added a steady rhythm, creating an infinite melody that remained ever-changing.

He wondered what time it was.

What a simple thought that was “What time is it?”. How incredibly silly. He clearly wasn’t ready to face everything he felt. That was much too big a task for someone so tired. So he smiled to himself as he pondered what hour of the day it was. He laid down, landing on the mattress with a soft ‘pof’. Perhaps it was mid-day and the people he loved so dearly were caring for each other and soaking in the relief of knowing their friends were safe and taken care of. Perhaps it was much too early in the morning and he had woken up before the sun. Perhaps it was a warm evening and Puffy was having dinner with old friends, possibly bonding with Technoblade and his found-family that resided in the bitter arctic. 

Maybe it was still the same day. Maybe he had taken a nap and it’s still day one of being locked up for his crimes. 

These thoughts hurt. They made the warm smile fade away. If it was the same day, that meant he’d need to sleep again before talking to the warden and possibly others about the things he’d done. It means people were still struggling. The ones that had died while fighting were most likely still sleeping through their respawn. 

How many people had he killed? He couldn’t remember. Maybe none? Or.. maybe a lot? He remembers the blood that soaked the skin of his hands. He remembers how much blood there was. He felt queazy even imagining it. 

Luckily enough, his growing anxiety was interrupted by the loud sound of the vault door opening and the floor being raised. He covered his ears at the sudden change in volume, clenching his eyes shut. After a while, he heard footsteps. He opening his eyes and peered out at the hallway as Sam stopped in front of his cell. He studied the demon for a second before greeting him.

“Glad to see you’re awake.” He muttered. His tone had gone back to the strictness Bad remembers. He sat up once more.

“Hello Sam, how are you?” He queried, gentleness coating his words. 

“I’m fine. And you?” He mumbled shortly.

Sensing the desire to keep the friendly conversation brief, he gave him a quiet “good”. Sam nodded, entering the cell. He set a paper plate of food and another water bottle down on the empty lectern in Bad’s cell. 

“Eat up. I will be taking you out of the cell so we can hold something like a trial for you. Discuss how extreme your punishment needs to be.” He informed simply. 

Bad released a small breath, sadness running through his body. He nodded, shifting to stand up. Sam turned on his heel to leave the cell after he was given a response.

He still wondered what time it was, but was afraid to ask. Not wanting to risk the ability to take comfort in the scenarios he created where his companions often wore smiles filled with relief and happiness.

He watched Sam leave and listened to the sound of the hybrid’s redstone masterpiece. He picked up the food and began eating. 

His mind drifted back into the rhythm of thoughts that came and went. He sat back down on the bed, chewing slowly. 

_ He still isn’t safe. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHaptEr 2 baybeeeeee!!
> 
> I am currently feeling a bit sick, so I decided I would write some more for you guys. Apologies is the pacing is a little too quick, I am trying re-learn how to write stories,
> 
> Also, it's women's day today!! Go thank some lovely ladies for everything they do.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time ever that I have posted my work on Ao3, so my apologies in advance. It'll get better over time, I promise
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it, I will update this as much as possible
> 
> Twitter - @jakjak13_


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